Carl was holding on. The man had lost too much blood, and the damage had been extensive. It was just a matter of him waking up or not. No one could give a definitive he would be ok, or he wouldn’t be.
Turner fought the exhaustion.
He’d been the one to go to Jason’s hospital room and explain to the teenage boy what had happened tonight.
It was not an experience he ever wanted to have again.
But Jason would be ok. Turner would see to it. He’d already spoken to a social worker on Jason’s behalf.
Until Carl was out of the woods, Jason was going to go home with Turner.
Annie was in full agreement with the idea. Turner had barely gotten the words out before she was agreeing to it.
She was still a licensed foster parent, after all, she’d pointed out. And she technically had a home with plenty of room.
But she was hoping Turner would be there with her.
She was sleeping now, in the bed in room 403.
Nikkie Jean and a few of the nurses had ganged up on her.
Her concussion had worsened when Dennis Lee Arnold had struck her.
Twice.
He’d struck her twice.
Annie had been fighting for her life while he’d been debating what to do with Jake and Elliot on the damned front porch.
Annie hadn’t just gotten through tonight, she’d saved herself.
Turner was damned proud of her for that.
He waited until Jason was asleep, a social worker agreeing to stay by his bed, before he made it back to Annie’s room.
Nikkie Jean was fussing over a sleeping Annie when he walked in. “How is she?”
“She’s going to be ok.” She sent him a wicked look. “I basically kept her here to keep her from overdoing it. She could have gone home hours ago.”
“I see. That won’t cause problems for you, will it?”
She sent him a rueful expression. “How can it? I own thirty percent of the hospital, after all. Well, I’m claiming the ER and this floor as part of my third. Anyone doesn’t like it, they can go climb a rosebush. A thorny one. You look exhausted. That bed’s free, big guy. Why don’t you check it out? I’ve been in it a time or two.”
At that moment, he would gladly trade his kingdom for a bed.
If he had a kingdom left, that was.
It was just starting to sink in what he had lost tonight.
Then he looked at the woman in the bed. He’d lost sticks and bricks tonight, yes, but the woman he loved was safe and right in front of him. “I might just do that. Tomorrow…we’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.”
“Together. We’ll deal with it together.” Annie said sleepily from the bed. “Sleep, Turner. We’ll be ok. We got through.”
“I’ll do that.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “We did. I’m glad I had you by my side while we did.”
He sat by her side until she drifted off to sleep and her little chattery friend had bid him good night. She’d promised to come by in the morning with an update on how the boys were doing.
He and Annie would collect them after their library program tomorrow. Tonight, he was just going to sit and think. Try to determine what he wanted from the future. It wasn’t hard to figure out.
He wanted Annie. He wanted the boys.
And he wanted Finley Creek.
He was the mayor for a reason. He was going to run his city to the best of his ability. He just hoped Annie would be by his side while he did it.
An hour after Nikkie Jean left he finally stood.
He’d swing by intensive care and ask the nurses about Carl. Then he’d peek in on Jason. Then he would crash out on the extra bed in Annie’s room.
Tomorrow would come early.
Turner still had a lot to do.
When he turned, there were four men outlined in the door of Annie’s room.
He recognized all four of them. He trusted all four of them.
But what they were doing in Annie’s hospital room at nearly two a.m. escaped him. “What’s happened?”
Houghton, the eldest cousin by a few months more than Clay, looked at him. He reached into his pocket. “You tell us? You doing ok?”
“I could be better.”
“We’re sorry about Carl, Turner,” Trevor said. “How’s he doing?”
“Holding on. He’s a tough old guy.” Turner looked at the four of them. Two of his cousins, both of his brothers. “What are you four doing here? This could have waited until morning.”
“We’re here to make it official,” Clay, the quietest of all of his cousins, said. “Since you’re the first of us so far.”
“I’m a little cloudy here, guys. Just spill.” Turner was far too exhausted for their cryptic comments.
Houghton pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket. “These.”
“Keys.”
“I didn’t realize my brother was this obtuse,” Tucker said, sending the woman in the bed a look. “I hope Annie realizes what she’s getting into.”
“I’m sure she does,” Houghton said. “She’s always been a smart girl. Smarter than Turner, apparently.”
Houghton stepped forward and slapped the keys in Turner’s hand. “It’s official. These were my father’s. Now…they are yours. It’s the perfect place for three little boys to grow up. Enjoy.”
Turner turned the keys over in his hand. “You’re serious.”
“You know how the family works. First of each generation to have children gets to live in the Barratt Ranch. That’s you,” Houghton said. “Unless…you and Annie aren’t going to make this a permanent thing?”
“Hell, yes, he and Annie are making it a permanent thing,” Annie said quietly. Turner looked at her.
He hadn’t known she’d awakened. “Hey, honey. Did we wake you?”
“Yes.” She sat up in the bed. Her eye was swollen almost shut, but she’d never looked more beautiful to him. “What’s going on? Is it Carl?”
Trevor stepped forward. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. Tucker followed suit. “Welcome to the family, little sister.”
Houghton looked at Turner and nodded. “Figured as much. Take the keys. Stay in the ranch. It…needs children. It needs the boys and a family inside.”
Houghton had grown up at the ranch. He hadn’t stayed there since someone had set off a bomb nearly killing him and his wife and several of her sisters and friends. Because of his father.
The memories were there in his eyes.
Turner’s fingers tightened around the keys.
He liked the idea of the boys growing up in the family home.
It had been built by the original Turner, after all. He’d taken over from his own father when the man and his wife Jude had moved into a smaller home years later.
“Thanks, guys.”
Clay slapped him on the back. He always had been a silent wall of support for his cousins. “Take care of her. Bailey says she’s one of those women men like us don’t deserve, and I’m inclined to believe her.”
Turner had to agree.
As his brothers and cousins left, he looked at her. Into tired blue eyes. “You sure you’re ok with this?”
“Yes. I…just want to be with you. Tonight made that clear. I’m tired of hiding from life. Just getting through. I want to embrace it. Everything that comes with it. Including you.”
She held out a small hand to him. Turner took it.
Before he could stop himself he was in that bed with her, curling himself around her.
So what if she had to lay mostly on top of him to make it work.
He was never spending another night away from her again.
Turner Avery Barratt was a Barratt, after all. He’d found the woman he wanted. And now he was going to keep her.